Deadly Games
by old.curiosities
Summary: Different Version of Snow White. What if prince charming was more than just a prince...


**Deadly Games**

I stood at the entrance, leaning against the jagged rocks, dry-eyed. Small white flowers with tiny hints of red within bloomed around me. Red. As red as her lips. White. As pure as her soul. It was as if they were purposely grown to frame her resting place. I took one last glance...

* * *

She was ten, sitting atop a wall overlooking the courtyard. Heat waves rose, assailing her with their fiery air; yet she was oblivious. She had been banished from her mother's side since the previous morn. Her father had thrown her out with his own bare hands. It was the first time she could remember him touching her. It was the first time she heard him speak to her. "Devil spawn be gone! You have killed my wife." Consumed with despair, she ran out to the wall overlooking the kingdom. It was somewhere her mother had often sneaked her out to play. They would play and her mother told stories of brave princesses and far off lands. "Mummy is sleeping," she thought, "Mummy's not here to play with me…" She swung her feet listlessly, its momentum lulling her slightly. "Mummy. I miss mummy's stories of princesses and magic...of..of..happily ever after.." She glanced longingly towards her mother's room with wide wet eyes. He stepped back hastily, hidden behind the dark maroon drapes. "Silly girl...mummy is dead..."

She was twelve. It was her first ball; A glittering belle among the false court. Midnight black tresses framing her proud pale face, and her naturally crimson lips only enhanced her innocent beauty. She outshone her 'mother' in every possible way. He took her hand and danced with her, twirling about the smooth marble floor. They talked and laughed, she even smiled for him. A kiss to her palm and he was gone, leaving behind a princess clutching tight his kiss.

She was sixteen, hiding in the shadows; a pretty wallflower elegantly sipping red wine in a crystal clear glass, timidly watching him from afar. He was waltzing in the spotlight, charming her court. It had been four years since he'd last kissed her. He swung her 'mother' into his arms, flashing his winning grin. All the while ignoring her, yet fully aware of each jealous shy glance.

She was eighteen, running as fast as she could; fleeing her home and a hunter's arrow. He'd played a game of hide and seek. Giving her a chance to escape, giving her time to hope. She crashed through the dense undergrowth all seemingly placed in her path to obstruct her way to freedom, tears of desperation streamed down her porcelain cheeks. He watched her from a distance, hesitating, yet unwilling to prolong her agony. His dark beauty was running for her life. He turned and shot. A soft thud crashed onto the ground. He walked away. Let those who think they'll win fear. His prey was for no one else.

She was twenty, living deep within the woods; protected by seven funny little monks who loved her as a daughter. She was a servant, yet a happy servant, singing while working her menial chores. A few brushes with death didn't scare her. After all, her friends always managed to save her from her ' mother's ' dark magic. She was waiting for her prince her mummy once promised her will come. Her prince charming riding a white steed, bringing her to his castle in the clouds. He heard her sing as she baked lunch, happiness brimming with every sweet note. His hand fisted as he thought of their future. No one was to come between them. Not even seven chaste dwarfs. He stepped into the cozy little cottage.

She was twenty-one, lying upon a bed of roses. A frozen beauty encased within glass, awaiting her prince's arrival. Ruby red lips forever sealed, curved into that smile which seemingly held the secret to ever lasting joy. Her dark lashes closed for eternity, shielding those jewel green eyes as her ebony hair fanned the satin bed sheets. A perfect royal beauty. He stood stock still. His task was done. Another game was over. Lost again to the dark arts of his mother. He cupped her cheeks, brushing her lips one last time. A tear fell, lost among the lifeless body.

* * *

Deadly games for centuries they'd played and will continue to play. If only he could forget a certain dark hair beauty, perhaps his loss would not have chaffed quite as much... 


End file.
